The kids and I had walked the dog, shut the back gate and gone inside, leaving the dog in the garden. Except, he wasn’t in the garden. The side gate was open from a delivery and he ran onto the busy road.
A lovely neighbour, caught him and brought him in with tales of how cars had been swerving around him.
Alive and unharmed.
I was walking in the fields near our house this afternoon and saw a sheep on her back, legs waving in the air.
When sheep are pregnant, as this one was, they get so big that they can’t roll back and so die.
So I rolled her over, she rolled back, I rolled again and pulled her around and at last, between us, she found her balance on her belly.
The crows had already been pecking at her eyes so my hands were covered in blood as I stroked her face and spoke softly to her.
At first she couldn’t stand, her legs too weak from being unused.
She pulled herself on her front legs and I stood where I was, watching in case she rolled again, until at last she found her feet and joined the flock.
Wobbling, with a bloody face, but still able to see and graze.
Which made me think,
About how sometimes we all need our lives saving.
The times where I have run out, not aware of danger and friends have pulled me back and guided me home to myself.
Then, at the weekend,
I rolled over,
with my feet waving, uselessly in the air,
I bleated for help.
Friends came running,
rolled me over,
I rolled back,
They rolled me over,
I found some steadiness,
no strength in my legs.
They stood watch incase I rolled back,
incase the dark beaks returned,
A close circle,
believing in me,
keeping me safe.
I found my feet once more.
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